


They Look So Pretty When They Bleed

by matimae



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm Bright Goes Through It, Medical Procedures, Poison, Serial Killers, Whump, Whumptober 2020, collapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matimae/pseuds/matimae
Summary: Malcolm Bright becomes the latest victim of the Haunted House Killer and reaps the aftereffects.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Ainsley Whitly
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	They Look So Pretty When They Bleed

**Author's Note:**

> written for whumptober no.10 (trail of blood)

Malcolm was dead. Or, he would be in the next 3 minutes or so.

He was currently in a ‘situation’ if he ever saw one. Being dragged violently through a Halloween themed amusement park like a rag doll was _not_ one of his finer moments.

“You really don’t have to do this!” Malcolm protested.

The murder suspect made no move to reply to him, just continued to manhandle the wiling Police consultant through the park.

“Please! Call 9-1-1! Someone’s been murdered!” Malcolm catches eyes with a passerby in the Haunted House, who just skirts back and laughs in amusement.

To Malcolm’s newfound horror- no one thinks twice that there’s a struggling man screaming for help, a trail of blood dripping behind him. The only thing going through their heads is that this was just one of those quality joints with those actors that are trying a little too hard. This was New York after all.

So no one helps the profiler as he is dragged from the rack of fake skeletons out to the wooden coffin, his head smacking into the corner as he struggles.

His head was already bleeding profusely, it’s what head’s liked to do after a massive contusion.

What Malcolm liked to do after a massive contusion was to turn off the lights and take a nap. Or, you know, probably go to the hospital.

But definitely _not_ this.

Another round of nausea rushed through him as they turned another corner and Malcolm found himself fighting against it less and less.

Blood dripped from his head and down his arm, like a maze searching for an exit. It dripped onto the floor making the Halloween blood look ever so cheap in comparison.

“Just...think this through...If you kill me you’ll have a lot of pressure from the New York police. I’m not like you’re other victims. Are you ready for what comes after?” Malcolm asked, hoping that he couldn’t see through his shaking hands and strained voice.

Still, the man wouldn’t answer and Malcolm was getting worried that he would have no way of getting through him. He had no way of fighting back physically in his condition and if he couldn’t talk his way out of it…

Damn it what did Gil always say about back up? It would come in real handy about now.

“I have...thought it through.”

The killer finally breaking his silence caught Malcolm by surprise. His head snapped in his direction, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Even if I get caught now...at least I’ll have one last one.”

_One more kill. Malcolm would be his last victim._

“You can still get out of this. If you let me go then-”

Malcolm was interrupted by a blow to the head. “Quiet!”

He was struggling to even stand anymore, he just can’t fight back. He tried. For Gil, for his family, he tries to save himself, but a part of him thought that this was a perfect ending, Fates decided. His life had been destroyed by his father and what he had done- and now he would be the murder victim that had haunted him his entire life. Some sick circle of life.

Malcolm still pleaded with the man, but the profiler had resigned himself to an early death some time ago. Was it the head injury or the years of psychological damage, who could say at this point?

He was just so tired. And sore. And everything hurt…

“This will only take a moment.” said the man, as he started the ritual that he did with all of his victims.

He prepped the vial of poison, tapping against the syringe to remove any bubbles from the green liquid.

Malcolm pulled against the man but his scalp still tore as he cut away at Malcolm’s once perfectly combed hair- now completely out of place. The man tucked away his signature trophy.

He began the injection and pushed the plunger in halfway before they were interrupted.

Malcolm was already going numb where the needle was, but it didn’t stop him from jumping up to greet Gil, who was barely restraining himself from beating the living shit out of the guy who was pumping poison into his kid, Malcolm stumbled and fell into him; and realized that maybe the injection worked a little more, and a little faster than he had originally thought.

“Bright? Bright? You with us?” Gil called out to him, his voice getting muddled in the background.

Black spots danced around his vision until it took up his whole sight as Malcolm’s knees gave out, falling into Gil and another officer Malcolm went limp.

…

Malcolm awoke to a distinct numbness in his left side still, and a city of IV’s in his arms.

“Hey, kid.”

He looked up to see Gil sitting in the chair next to him, the same turtleneck as always, his mother sitting in the chair next to him.

“Hey,”

“So you caught the Haunted House Killer then?” Jessica said, her voice a little less than amused. Her son _did_ almost die after all.

“Yeah, you know? I kinda lost my appetite for haunted houses this year...” Malcolm said with a small laugh just as the Doctor came into the room.

He was discharged later that day as they were able to give him the antidote, and Malcolm was feeling more or less back to normal.

“You just take this weekend easy okay? I know it’s easier said than done, but, try to relax.” Gil said before giving him a pat on the shoulder as he left the hospital.

While driving him home Jessica had a million questions. “Are you sure you’re feeling fine? Do you need more time at the hospital? Do you need me to stay with you at your apartment? How about food? Malcolm, do you have enough food?”

Malcolm sighed and shook his head with a smile, at least he knew she cared. “Yes, Mother, I have food. I’m set, really. I’m just going to go home, and have a relaxed weekend. Trust me- that’s all I want at this point.”

...

Malcolm was filling up Sunshine’s feed dish when he felt it happen the first time. A wave of nausea and the numbness returned from before, creeping in from his injection sight, even though it had been around 24 hours at this point.

It passed after only a moment and he thought that it was it. He grabbed onto a nearby chair and lowered himself down. He waited for a moment, but it seemed like it all went away.

“Guess we’re in the clear now, huh Sunshine?” he asked his bird, before standing up.

As he stood up, the rapid motion from sitting to standing must've been unwittingly too much, and he collapsed onto his hardwood floor.

…

Jessica had talked her daughter into checking in on Malcolm, but in truth, Ainsley didn’t mind at all, it had been _way_ too long since they had any time to hang out, so she was looking forward to bring over their coffee order to Malcolm’s place.

“Malcolm?” Ainsley called out, knocking on his door again.

He wasn’t answering.

She balanced the coffees in one arm and pulled out her phone to call him, maybe he just stepped out for a minute.

‘ _You’ve reached the inbox of: ‘Malcolm Bright’ leave a message after the tone.’_

A pit was beginning to form in Ainsley’s stomach, which was _very_ unlike Malcolm. He was never super reliable, but Ainsley could count on one hand how many times he’d left her on voicemail- and it’s never been good.

“Malcolm?! You in?” she banged on the door again. “Okay...I’m coming in!”

She didn’t even know if he was home at all, but it couldn’t hurt to check. He had given her the spare key for a reason- right?

When she entered the apartment everything appeared normal. Sunshine tweeted her ‘hello’ and Ainsley set the coffee down on the counter.

“Malcolm? You here?”

Dread rushed through the reporter as she caught a glimpse of Malcolm’s legs lay sprawled across the floor.

“Malcolm? _Shit_..!” she ran to him and rolled him over onto his back- finding a trail of blood run down his nose.

Panic swelling in her voice Ainsley shakes Malcolm, in an attempt to wake him up. “Malcolm, please, please, wake up...”

Still unresponsive Ainsley shakily dials 9-1-1, and then cradles her brother in her arms.

“Mal...please...you have to wake up, okay?” she sniffs.

His hair was plastered against his forehead with sweat, and Ainsley tried to wipe away the blood that trailed down from the nosebleed- but it just kept gushing out.

“Just, hang on for me...okay?” she holds him closer. “An ambulance is on it’s way...and...and...you’re gonna be fine.”

Ainsley tries to hold herself together- she knew nothing good would come out of her dissolving into pieces. But her brother laying so lifeless and pale, his eyes sunken into his face...She could hardly stand to witness it any longer.

“Hghgmm,” Malcolm moaned, startling her.

“Malcolm? Malcolm, are you okay?” she asked, hands running over his shoulders.

He continued to silently wheeze, still not opening his eyes.

_Please be waking up!_ Ainsley pleaded.

A knock on the door made her aware of the presence of the team of paramedics. She didn’t want to step away from him, not when he was like this. But she had to let them do their job.

Ainsley stood and watched as they administered CPR before loading him onto the stretcher, taking him away in sirens. 

...

“Getting to be a real regular around here, are you now?” the nurse joked as she checked Malcolm’s blood pressure.

He just smiled in amusement, he really _was_ a regular at the hospital now, was he?

The fog hadn’t left his brain quite yet but Malcolm felt miles better. Whatever they gave him had worked wonders.

“We think that the poison is now fully removed from your system.”

“That’s the hope, right Doc?”

“Right..” the Doctor tapped her pen against her clipboard for a moment before continuing. “Keep taking this medication, two times a day by mouth. Drink lots of water- no alcohol, and most importantly get lots and _lots_ of rest.”

Malcolm nodded at her instructions, but in all honestly zoned out by the end.

The Doctor turned to Jessica who was propped up in the bedside chair, which wasn’t doing any favors to her back. “Does he have somebody at home to look after him? Just for the time being, we don’t expect him to have another reaction like last time, but to be safe he should be under some sort of watch the next few days.”

“Yes, we’ll make sure he’s staying with somebody. And, _thank you,_ Doctor.” Jessica said, rising to walk the Doctor to the door.

…

“So, I know you said no Haunted Houses this year...but are you in the mood for a scary movie?” Ainsley held up Halloween I and II on disk, her favorites since childhood.

“Sibling movie night?” Malcolm said, caught in surprise. “We haven’t done that in ages!”

A grin spread across his sister's face as her eyes crinkled into the smile. “I’ll make the popcorn!”

She bounded to the Kitchen, her curls bouncing on her shoulder. Malcolm was glad to see her smile. He knew that it couldn’t have been fun finding him like that…

Malcolm rearranged the blanket around him as he waited for Ainsley to come back with the popcorn.

“Hey, Ains. Smells great!” Malcolm started, grabbing a handful. “I just wanted to say...thank you. For being there for me earlier.”

“Oh, Malcolm, oh course...”

“I just keep thinking if you wouldn’t have been there-”

“Hey. I _was_ there. And now _you’re_ here. You made it through, and now, we got some movies to watch!” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

A small grin started on Malcolm’s face. He’d almost died twice this week (nothing new…) but he felt content. For the moment, this was all he needed. He wasn’t getting any sleep tonight anyways-so why didn’t they make it a marathon?

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
